


Bad Dreams Don't Come True

by ReclessAbandon



Category: Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Force Visions, Insomnia, Nightmares, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Seduction to the Dark Side, Sleepless, Sleepless nights, The Dark Side of the Force, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt, fic request, prompt, prompted by, requested by
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23279770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReclessAbandon/pseuds/ReclessAbandon
Summary: Requested by a follower on Tumblr. This is a repost.
Relationships: Cal Kestis/Reader
Kudos: 25





	Bad Dreams Don't Come True

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by a follower on Tumblr. This is a repost.

The chirping of the crickets hidden amongst the tall grass, the whispers of the Saava within the tree roots and niches, the snoring of the Slyyygs in their damp dens—Kashyyyk is asleep. The water trickling from the rocks and trees was enough of a lullaby to drift the partisans to sleep. However, even in the midst of peace, there is a storm brewing within.

You lie awake in bed, keeping the tossing and the turning to a minimum. Cal’s breathing kept a slow rhythm. You study his face illuminated by what little light there is in the ship’s quarters; you trace the freckles that riddled his cheeks and your eyes follow the scar on his nose bridge that had already blended into his skin. Slight flits of his eyelids and the little twitches the corner of his mouth made you wonder what he might be dreaming about.

You leave bed and head on to the galley for a cup of water. Contemplating on what to do with the insomnia. After one last chug of the water, you immediately went back to bed and mentally coaxed yourself to sleep.

The next morning, Cal woke up to finding your side of the bed empty. He gets up and walks to the galley.

“Good morning, Cal,” Cere greeted while pouring tea. “Have some breakfast first.”

“And [y/n]?”

Cere shot him a clueless look, “She went out early, said she needed to do something.”

“Did she now? Where?”

“Last I saw her she was just here at the landing pad.”

Cal stepped out of the Mantis but does not see you. He finds your handiwork at the west corner of the hangar instead—tools and datapads scattered on the floor. It’s a mess.

Shortly after, you arrive back to your spot in the hangar and find Cal crouched to the floor peering over your work.

“Good morning,” you simply said.

“Hey, good morning. You’re up early,”

“Yeah, fancied fixing this speeder bike I hijacked from a scout. Nothing I can’t fix though,”

He watched you tinker away with the speeder’s chassis on the table. You were so absorbed with it, but he stayed there—watching you and sometimes handing over the tools you needed but was within his reach. He knew that you were just trying to distract yourself.

“You were tossing and turning last night,” Cal finally starts the conversation.

“Sorry, I tried to be careful. I didn’t mean to wake you,”

“Bad dream?”

“It’s nothing I can’t sleep off,”

Cal nodded, he knows that he’s not going to get to you _that_ easily. Yet he can see how upset you are, even when you’re denying it until the lie you tell yourself becomes truth. Whatever question he throws, you either segue to a different topic or just don’t answer at all.

He gave up for now. He didn’t want to upset you further and left you to your business. There were times that he still wanted his presence known such as lending you more of his tools and parts, handing you some lunch when you forgot to eat.

He may not see the whole picture of the thoughts in your mind, but he can sense your feelings—they were strong, loud, and dark. The latter worried him. There was a swirling darkness about it that he wanted to know more about, he bit his tongue, thinking that he didn’t want to further upset you by pressing into the matter.

Later that night, Cal begged you to stop for tonight. Clearly, the speeder bike needed a lot of work considering the wear and tear it had gotten over time. The chassis you worked on was a bust and you had to figure out what else it needed to get it running again.

“Come on,” Cal coaxed. “Don’t make me carry you against your will.”

“Oh I bet you’d love that,” you teased as you unzipped your jumpsuit’s top and tied the sleeves around your waist.

You got your consequence. Cal reeled you in by the waist, riddled your ticklish neck with kisses before scooping you up in his arms and marching to the Mantis. Lying down together, neither of you spoke whilst cuddling; he just glided his fingertips over your smooth skin—he reached for your thighs, traced to your arms, and then your collarbone. Ironically, his battle-scarred hands had a certain softness relaxed you. He planted a kiss on your bare shoulder, then his lips wandered to your neck, and then a long, final one on the cheek before drifting to sleep.

You were almost too afraid to doze off. Because there will be no control from you by the time the nightmares set in—but you were exhausted.

Your eyes shot up, you gasped and woke in a cold sweat. You could have sworn you only closed your eyes for a few seconds, but it somehow felt like hours since. Massaging the bridge of your nose, you wonder if you were awake or dreaming because it still feels like real life although a little different. You find Cal missing in bed, you hear a clattering noise coming from the galley. The anxiety faded.

 _Oh thank God, he must be having a glass of water._ You thought.

You stand up from bed and call to him again. Not a single response, not a grunt or whatever. Nonetheless, you head to the galley—only to find it empty. Your eyebrows pulled in confusion and looked around—it clearly wasn’t your little stowaway, otherwise it would have been caught red-handed. Something wasn’t right. You immediately untied and wore your jumpsuit on and then headed out of the ship.

“Cal?”

The hangar was empty, so is the hallway that led to the elevator between the hangar and forest trench. More noise came from the narrow annex on the right, you continued to follow it in the hope that it would be Cal—it was empty again, yet something in it drew you to jump down from the platform.

Something came from behind, you sensed the danger the split second your boots touched the soil below. You turned around with lightsaber already ignited and found an opening that had never been there before. A menacing figure emerged from the pitch black mouth of the cave. Whatever it was, it didn’t idle in the darkness for too long, it was eager to face you. Here comes the one you have been looking for—but not exactly in the way you wanted to.

It was Cal. His face had been distorted. The lining of his eyes were swollen red, bags were under his them too, and the skin of his face had become sallow; but there was a frightening tenacity in the way he appeared before you. You sucked in air and held your arms up.

“Cal? Is it…? No…”

The only reaction that came from him was a low, throaty growl as his face wrinkled with anger—one that seems to be directed only to you.

He wielded a red lightsaber, there was rage and hate in his eyes that couldn’t comprehend; at the same time, there was something in you that you couldn’t stop—let alone control—you dueled with this impersonator. In a second’s notice, you immediately thrusted your saber into his heart and realized it too little too late.

The look on his face was wrought with pain. He kept his mouth agape while he choked to breathe. Blood trickled from his eyes as he croaked, struggling to either speak or catch air. Every second that he did try, more blood dripped until it filled out the whites in his eyes. You retracted the saber out of him and the body fell limp at your feet—dead open eyes crying out blood at they stared back at you. The sight was utterly terrorizing. You wanted to blink, close your eyes, or avert from it but you just can’t—you’re stuck to staring at what you just did.

“Good…” a raspy, ancient voice chanted.

You spun around, searching for the source; desperate to find it, the moving has finally made you dizzy and caused you to lose your footing.

The voice easily shifts its tone. At first, it sounded somewhat benevolent, but even so it sent chills down your spine from end to end. Although it eventually turns into a croaking snarl, adding up to the fear of its invisible yet all-seeing presence looming about. Something about that voice was oddly familiar.

“He was weak, you knew from the start,”

 _NO!_ You fought.

“Your anger rewards you with great power. The Dark side of the Force favors you,” the voice snarled, emphasizing its latter words.

_I SAID…_

“NO!” You jolt up, found yourself in a cold sweat gasping for air with the fullness of your lungs.

You immediately jumped out of bed and walked out of the quarters, Cal felt the shuffling of the sheets and felt you leaving bed. He blinked his eyes open, saw you leave, and heard the ship door open. He got up too—he didn’t bother suiting up the top part of his jumpsuit—he simply followed you out.

He finds you sitting alone at the edge of the landing pad where he blew up an entire tank with the AT-AT he hijacked. He sat beside you and just relished the silence for a few moments.

“Nightmare?”

“Yes,”

“If it helps, you can talk to me about it,” he persisted to find your gaze as you avoided it, he shyly reached for your hand, and he fiddled with your fingers.

 _Oh, you sweet, clueless boy._ You thought as you looked Cal in the eye while he pursed his lips in, but you couldn’t look at him for long. You look away, contemplating whether you have the strength to put the words and thought together and then say it in front of his face.

He gently cradles your cheek and turns your face to him. He brushes the hair to your ear and cups your cheeks, keeping you locked to his gaze.

“Hey, it’s okay, you can tell me,”

It didn’t take long before you decided to narrate _everything_ from the start to the end. No detail was spared until you started to hesitate when _that_ certain part is almost there. You sucked in air, closed your eyes, and prepared yourself for whatever reaction or comment he’ll have for you.

“Your eyes were yellow. We fought. I killed you…” you choked but attempted to finish, “And then you started crying out blood while you died in front of me—by _my_ hand.”

The concluding part was hearing the voice that was trying to reach into you, by using the Dark side.

“Has it been getting to you often lately?”

“It’s been two days and a half now—if you count today,”

Cal’s face was blank, but the slight twitches in his lips were evident; he could only wonder what the actual picture looked like and concluded that he doesn’t want to know. That dream just burned an awful picture of Cal in your mind. He noticed your erratic fidgeting: your cracked nails were ripping out the cuticles and when that started to hurt, your knuckles were white as bone when you close your hand into a fist.

He saw the way you looked down on your mutilation with great disdain, the moonlight reflected on the tears that glazed your eyes until one teardrop fell. His finger wiped away the stain that the tear left and wrapped his arm around you, pulled you closer for an embrace, and his one hand was enough to hold both of your hands to stop you from hurting yourself.

“It’s alright now, [y/n], don’t worry,” he cooed.

You wrap your small arm around him, embracing him back. He brought your hand to his lips and kissed your fingers—wounded or not—and then planted more kisses on the palm of your hand. Later on, his attention trailed to your lips. He brushes the back of his fingers smoothly against your cheek, and then tenderly locked his lips onto yours and he rakes your hair in the sweet spots. Both of you withdrew but he followed up with a kiss on the forehead before propping his chin on your head. His other hand stroked your hair while you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I know you’ll never hurt me, [y/n], you’ve nothing to fear,” he hummed in your ear, as he scooped your legs and resting over his thighs while he cuddled you warm and tight under the moonlight.


End file.
